Quirky Couple
by Pointless Things
Summary: Written for Lady Sybil Lives Day/Week. Series of one-shots depicting Tom and Sybil's quirky, loving marriage.
1. Chapter 1

I'm going to put Mercy on the back burner for now because it's S/T Smut Weekend and Lady Sybil Lives Day on Monday. But don't fret! It will be updated soon!

My smut is coming (LOL) but this fic is basically gearing up for Lady Sybil Lives Day. It's a series of short one shots depicting none other than…Sybil and Tom's quirky marriage.

I saw an advice column that found that if couples do these six things, they are generally in a happier marriage. I haven't been married so I can't say for sure if these work, but the advice was cute.

I hope you guys enjoy!

o o o

"You're going to lead me into a wall Tom."

Tom kissed her cheek and kept his hands at her eyes, blackening her sight. Sybil held her hands out in front of her, trying to feel something other than air just past her fingertips. He carefully led her from their bedroom into the hall. Their steps echoed in their quiet, cozy Dublin flat.

He pulled her close until his chest made contact with her back and smiled against her cropped hair. She had gotten it cut a few days ago and he loved it. It was something new and different, unexpected and shocking. Absolutely her.

"I promise I won't love. Just trust me."

Sybil took a deep breath in and stopped walking. Tom could feel her eyebrows move under his hands. She tilted her head a bit to try to face him.

"Tom? Have you been using my lotion?"

"Erm…No."

Sybil tried to twist her body around to face him, but Tom's insistent hands stayed at her eyes, making sure that she couldn't see or turn around. She put her hands on her hips and he could feel the small muscles in her face scrunch around her eyes. Tom had to hold in his laugh. She was about to chide him, but she was facing the opposite direction. How ridiculous they must look!

"Don't lie Tom Branson! You have been! I can smell it on your hands! What have you been doing with it?"

Knowing he was caught, he kissed her on the junction between her neck and shoulder as an apology.

"I'll buy you some more."

She dropped her hands and reached behind her to swat his stomach.

"You better."

Tom led them into the kitchen and released his hands from her face.

"Ta da!"

The table was set for two. A warm Shepard's Pie sat in the middle with a basket of soda bread off to the side. Sybil's stomach grumbled, realizing she came straight home from the hospital and collapsed on the bed from exhaustion, not even realizing Tom wasn't home yet.

"What's all this for?" Sybil asked, still staring at the delicious food on the table.

"We're celebrating the fact that you haven't killed us both with your cooking yet!"

She turned around to swat his chest.

Her cooking had gotten better over the few months. She still couldn't master cooking corned beef and cabbage, but she perfected her cakes and colcannon. But Tom said they couldn't live on potatoes and sweets the rest of their lives. She always shrugged his comment off and mentioned that generations of his ancestors did it. They were just paying homage while they improved their cooking skills.

"Tom!"

Tom pulled her in and kissed the top of her head.

"Sorry darling. You know I love your cooking."

She wrapped her arms around him and inhaled the scent of his tie and shirt. Very Tom.

"Don't patronize me."

He smiled and pulled away so they could see each other's faces.

"But really, what are we celebrating?" Sybil asked.

A cheeky grin crept onto his face Sybil was becoming more and more uncertain.

"It's our anniversary."

Sybil shook her head in confusion. Anniversary? What anniversary?

"But we haven't been married a year yet. And it's January. Have you forgotten we were married in June love?"

Tom's grim grew wider as Sybil searched his eyes for some sort of answer.

"Not our wedding anniversary Sybil."

"Then what?"

Tom pulled away, putting space in between them. He slid his hands from her elbows to her hands and brought them up to his hands and kissed them both with such tenderness that it almost made Sybil want to cry. Tom was unapologetic about wearing his heart on his sleeve and it was something she loved and admired about Tom.

"A year ago you told me yes. Well almost a year. I thought we should celebrate."

In all honestly, Sybil had completely forgotten. She was just so happy to say yes that time didn't seem to matter anymore. She was going to start a new life with the man she loved and that was it. Like Tom had said, the rest was detail.

Tom pulled out the pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and opened it.

"It'll be a year in…3-2-1."

Tom put the watch back in its place and cradled her cheek. She pressed her cheek into his palm, loving the warmth. He leaned in slowly and Sybil's eyes started to flutter shut, expecting her lips to meet his. He stopped millimeters before their lips touched and whispered.

"Happy anniversary Sybil Branson."

Sybil looked into his eyes and brought her hand up to stroke his cheek.

"Happy anniversary Tom Branson."

They smiled as their gazes moved from their eyes to their lips. They leaned in closer and their lips brushed lightly against one another. The sensation of their lips on one another never ceased to amaze them. Each kiss sent flutters to their stomach and their hearts racing. It always left them breathless, amazed, and craving for more when it was over.

Tom looked into Sybil's eyes and smiled. God. This incredible woman…How did I get this lucky?

"I'm so incredibly happy you said yes," Tom whispered, "Sometimes I can't believe it, that you're here with _me _in Dublin, making a life for ourselves…"

Tom reached for Sybil's belly and splayed out his hand, rubbing her abdomen with his thumb.

"…our little one."

Sybil looked down and covered his hand with hers. They were going to have a child together. A child. The thought excited and scared her. They were going to be parents soon to a rambunctious little girl or boy.

"Sometimes I can't believe this is real," She whispered.

Tom stared at her belly, in awe of the life that was growing inside her.

"It became real when you said yes."

They shared another kiss and pulled each other in for a tight embrace.

Tom sighed and turned his head to rest his cheek on the crown of Sybil's head.

"And I use your lotion because get I frustrated at work. Not _frustrated_ frustrated. The real frustrated. When things get overwhelming, I usually run my hands over my face. And when I do, I can smell your lotion on my hands and it reminds me of you. I imagine you're standing next to me, encouraging me to go on."

Sybil pulled away and Tom saw she was smiling up at him.

"You don't have to buy me my lotion. I'm happy to buy it myself, for us."

He grinned kissed her on the tip of her nose.

"Thank you love."

Sybil smiled and poked his side, knowing he was ticklish here. Tom jumped and she started to laugh.

"And besides, you might get the wrong one like you did the last time."

Tom rubbed his side and started to laugh with her.

"Hey! All the bottles looked alike!"


	2. Chapter 2

Quick update! Mostly because I've been hoarding these for days and I can't hold onto them any longer! I should be updating this everyday so look out the the quick updates!

Thank you to shana-rose, Patano, MH96, sybbelle, Corkrose, Syblime, and The Yankee Countess for reviewing!

Enjoy!

o o o

Sybil plopped down on the chair by the table in the nurse's room for her lunch break. Finally alone and away from the other nurses, doctors, and patients, she tore the white cap off her head and closed her eyes. She rubbed the back of her neck to alleviate the pain caused by the stress of the last few weeks. The pressure of her hand was only temporary relief. She was exhausted. The hospital scheduled her to come in for early shifts since they were short staffed. And because of the shortage of nurses, Sybil's usual 8-hour shift started turning into 10+ hour shifts.

'If they ask me to work on Saturday again, I'll going to say no. I need some time to myself,' she thought to herself.

She hardly saw Tom anymore. She would get up hours before the sun rose in the sky and leave for the hospital and come home when the sun was going down. Tom wasn't usually home by then, so she ate dinner alone and went to bed early for the next day. The first few weeks, Sybil would wake up from Tom moving around their bedroom and they would make love. But as weeks went by, the fatigue set in and she was often too tired to do anything.

She hated the hospital for making her work so much. She missed Tom and wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms in the morning and wake up together.

Sybil put her lunch pail on the table and opened it. She pulled out the cheese sandwich wrapped in wax paper, opened it and frowned. The sandwich she packed last night was half eaten and the crusts from the other half was left in the package. There was a note attached to the edge of the wax paper. She pulled it off and immediately recognized the handwriting as her husbands.

_Sorry I ate some of your lunch. It looked good. I couldn't help myself. _

A sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head in disapproval.

'Really Tom? You couldn't eat anything else? This was my lunch. That was all I had to eat for the rest of the day.'

Her stomach grumbled when she noticed a small brown paper bag in her pail with another note attached. She picked it up the bag and read the note.

_Here's some of mine to make up for it._

"Thank God," Sybil muttered under he breath.

She opened the bag and found another wax paper package, expecting a sandwich, but found more crusts from an already eaten sandwich. Sybil sighed out of irritation. Tom's never done this before. Why today of all days? Along with the empty sandwich wrapper, she found another note attached to the back of the wax paper.

_Shite. I ate that too. Sorry about that love. I'm a hungry man._

At the bottom of the brown paper bag, she expected to fine something, anything really, to sustain her. There was nothing except for another note from Tom.

_I swear I'll make up for it._

"God dammit Tom! How? You've left me with no food! And I'm starving! I've got no time to run down to the market and buy food for lunch! What am I supposed to do?"

She crumpled up the brown paper bag and threw it against the wall.

Sybil reluctantly reached for the half eaten cheese sandwich and nibbled at the corner when the delicious smell of freshly fried food wafted into the room. Her stomach grumbled but she kept eating the remnants of her forlorn lunch. She reached into her pail, hoping she had packed herself an apple but found a piece of paper instead. She pulled it out.

_Look up._

'God Tom. What now? Do you have another note waiting for me somewhere?'

Her eyes darted up. Nothing but the Dublin skyline outside of the window she was currently facing. What could possibly be outside of the window?

A whistle came from behind her and she whipped her head around.

Tom stood at the doorway, smile on his face, holding two newspaper packages filled with her new found favorite treats along with two bottles of ginger ale. He stepped into the nurse's room and walked straight to her. She noticed the note taped to his tie. Tom nodded at it, signaling for her to take it. She reached for it and read it as he sat down on the chair next to her.

_Sorry about your lunch. I bought you this to make up for it. I hope that's okay. Hope you don't mind me eating lunch with you either. Might as well since I'm here, right?_

Her stress, anger, and fatigue melted away when she saw him. Tom was so ridiculous sometimes…

He set down the bottles in front of her and raised up both newspaper pouches for her to take it. Tom smiled wide at her.

"Fish and chips?"


	3. Chapter 3

Big thanks to MH96, Syblime, Patano, shana-rose, cassiemortmain, and corkrose for leaving reviews!

Jeez! This is not normal for me! Update after update! Either way I hope you enjoy! I loved writing this chapter! I hope you love reading it!

o o o

Tom came out of his study, nose buried in the multiple drafts of his article. He headed straight for his and Sybil's bedroom, knowing that she was probably on the bed, laying down and reading a book. She had just come home from a short shift at work and needed a rest. It would only take her five minutes to read his article. Not too long. She could go back to reading her book in no time. Not looking up once, he entered the room and did not notice his wife hiding behind the door, with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Sybil? Do you mind if you read this over? I don't think I'm getting my point across in this article. Love where are-"

"Boo!"

"AARGH!"

Startled, Tom let out a yell and threw all his papers in the air, scattering them all over the bedroom floor. She slipped out of the room laughing as Tom stood, paralyzed on the spot, wide eyed and breathing hard. He gripped his chest in vain to slow down the rush of adrenaline. Not again…

"Jesus Christ Sybil!"

. . .

Facing, laying beside Sybil, Tom ravished her bare neck in small kisses. He buried his face in her skin, drunk on her. Quiet sighs of satisfaction passed through their lips as they laid on the bed, coming down from a round of lovemaking. He pulled her in and wrapped her tightly in his warm embrace. He draped his leg over her thigh and pushed his hips onto hers, creating exquisite friction. Tom rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Her breasts pressed into his chest and he could feel her nipples pebbling on his skin. He groaned at the sensation, getting ready for round two.

His hands began to wander all over her back. They traveled down to her arse and squeezed the soft and supple flesh of her bum. She panted and ground her hips more fiercely onto his. Tom gasped and bucked his hips forward, almost slipping into Sybil. Not yet though…

Just as his hands did, Sybil's hands started to wander all over. She stroked his side. Tom flinched, but he was too caught up in the moment to do anything about it.

"Sybil, come one, not there."

Sybil peppered kissed to his face and smiled against his lips as she stroked his side once again, this time, wiggling her fingers.

"Sybil, stop. You know I'm ticklish there."

Again, Tom was too distracted kissing Sybil's shoulder to notice her smile getting wider and wider.

She quickly pulled away from him and sat firmly on his hips. Tom, bewildered, was caught off guard as she attacked his sides with her hands, tickling him. Tom clamped his arms down to his sides, trying to protect himself. He roared with laughter as he was being tickled. Tom tried to squirm away from her touch, but her hips held him firmly in place. Sybil laughed as she watched Tom wiggle and laugh until the tears sprung in his eyes.

"GAHHH! Sybil stop! Oh God! HAHAHA! OKAY! OKAY! I GIVE UP!"

. . .

Sybil walked into the kitchen and found Tom by the stove, waiting for the kettle to boil in nothing but his underwear. She pulled her dressing gown tighter around her naked body, still tired from waking up and from having lost sleep due to their nightly habits. She leaned on the wall, bare feet chilled by the bare wood floor. A piece of leftover bread from last night's dinner sat on the table. Sybil reached for it and started to munch on the cold bread.

"You shouldn't walk around with just your drawers on," she stated with a yawn.

Not turning from the stove, Tom replied.

"Why not? It's just you."

A wicked thought crossed Sybil's mind and she started to plan…

"You never know what might happen Mr. Branson," Sybil said slyly.

"Like what?"

Her mind was made up. She ate the last of the bread and slipped out of her dressing gown, cold air hitting her bare skin. She draped it over the chair and made her way over to the stove.

"I don't know…"

Sybil quietly snuck behind him. She bit her lip, trying to fight the giggle she knew was going to give her away. She reached down and quickly tugged at the hems of shorts until they were down to his knees.

"Oh my God!" Tom yelled.

The cold air hit his naked body and he cringed. His hands flew down to try and cover himself from being exposed.

Sybil slapped his perfectly shaped bum as she quickly stood up. She giggled and ran away to the bedroom, feet pattering on the bare floor, knowing she would pay dearly for her all her recent shenanigans. She closed the door and jumped onto the bed, still giggling, waiting for her husband to storm in.

Tom let out a chuckle and let go of himself. He kicked off his shorts and ran after his naughty wife, naked as the day he was born.


	4. Chapter 4

**HAPPY LADY SYBIL LIVES DAY! The day where I reject JF's reality and subject my own.**

Thank you to shana-rosee, MH96, cassimortmain, Corkrose, and dustedoffanoldie for leaving reviews! You are all lovely and I love all of you dearly!

Right! On to the next chapter!

o o o

Sybil and Tom stood in front of the parlor window, bathed in the black and blue light coming from the storm clouds outside and in pale yellows from the candle sitting on the small table next to the sofa.

"No Sybil. This is a bad idea."

"Come on Tom. A little rain never hurt anyone."

A flash of light illuminated the room as the muffled sound of thunder miles away quickly swept through the room. The patters of rain hitting the window, roof, and exterior of the house became white noise as the rain stayed longer.

It had been a childhood fantasy of Sybil's, to play in the rain. Growing up in prim and proper Downton Abbey, playing out in the rain was unladylike and frowned upon. She could hear Granny cluck her tongue in disapproval and say something witty about how nonsensical children were. (Most of the time, her criticisms about children in general were thinly veiled condemnations directed towards Sybil.)

In spite of all her years of debutante training, molding, and sculpting, turning her into a marriageable young woman for a man of the upper class to dote upon and one day marry, her "childish" idea stuck with Sybil and she was determined to do it one day. As for the rest of it. Who cared a fig about it all anyway? She knew she would always marry for love and not a position. And now, Sybil had love and not just any love. All consuming love. Tough love. Joyful love. Frustrating love. Passionate love. Angering love. Funny love. Boring love. Happy love. Above all else, true love with her true love. Tom Branson.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Tom looked incredulously outside the window. He remembered she told him she loved storms. She loved watching the rain as it hit the pavement in waves in an ever inconstant pattern. As the wind started to pick up, the droplets of water on the window grew larger and streaked. He gestured towards the curtain-less window and stared at his eccentric wife as another roll of thunder filled their ears.

"A little rain? It's storming!"

She crossed her arms, determined to get her way.

"Well what do you suppose we do? We have no electricity and our last candle is about to go out."

An idea clicked into Tom's head and he smirked. He pulled her in close and nipping at the skin of her neck. He murmured into her shoulder.

"I can think of one thing…"

Tom's hands roamed all over her body and Sybil had to fight hard to keep herself from getting swept away in another bout of lovemaking.

"Tom, focus for a moment…mmm…We can do that after…"

She pushed his head away from her neck. Tom groaned as his face fell in disappointment. Sybil brought her hands up to his shoulders as his rested at her waist. She rubbed his shoulders though the layers of fabric from his shirt and waistcoat. She blinked once and asked him a question.

"Haven't you ever wanted to play out in the rain before?"

Tom thought for a moment.

"No."

"Never?"

"I can't say I have."

Sybil pulled away from his touch and headed for the door. If he wasn't coming with her, he wasn't going to let him spoil her fun.

"Fine. I'll go by myself."

She left the parlor and entered the corridor to the door, with Tom right on her heels.

"Sybil! You can't go out! You'll get wet!"

She unpinned her hair and let her long curly tresses fall down her back. She would probably get a haircut soon. Pinning her hair and taking it down every day was becoming a hassle. Those bobs look good. I wonder if I would look good in them as well.

Sybil opened the lock and turned the door handle. The door swung open. A gust of cold air rushed in chilling the entire house.

"I think that's the point of playing in the rain."

She bounced happily out the door. She ran into the street, confident that no one would be outside. The rain was cold. It hit her shoulders until her blouse was soaked through. The puddles she inadvertently ran through drenched the hem of her skirt and shoes, along with her stockings. Her hair stuck to her head and got heavier and heavier as it became water logged. She shivered, but smiled. It was exactly the way she imagined it.

Sybil ran all along the street and sidewalk, breathless but still laughing. She stopped by the door, facing the street. She looked up and closed her eyes, feeling the water as it tapped on her face. She opened her mouth to stick her tongue out. The cold water cooled her warm tongue. Sybil savored the coolness and the freshness of the rain water.

Tom stood by the door, the light behind him casting a shadow on his face. He smiled. Watching Sybil roam around, carefree was a joy to see. She was so happy. If she was happy, so was he.

After five minutes of watching her get drenched in the rain, he called out to her.

"Sybil! Come back inside! You'll catch a cold."

Sybil yelled from across the street.

"Five more minutes!"

She held her hands out as she watched the rain tap on the palms of her hand in that same inconsistent pattern. She looked up and she swore Tom had smirk on his face. The light shielded his face from her, but she knew her husband. Giddy from playing outside, Sybil ran across the street to the front door, his face becoming more and more enshrouded as she approached.

"Come on Tom! The rain's not as fun without you!"

With a smirk and his arms folded across his chest, he shook his head no.

"Please? Will you come out, for me?"

She rested her hold hands on the fabric of his folded forearms and pouted. Tom could never say no when she pouted like that.

He stepped away and started to unbutton his suit jacket. Sybil shrieked in delight. It had worked! He shrugged it off, leaving him in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves. Tom stepped outside into the rain to stand next to Sybil. He pulled the front door closed and shivered. The rain was falling down harder, dousing Tom more quickly than he anticipated. His hair started to fall into his eyes. Sybil noticed and pushed the strands back, away from his face. Tom leaned in close and kissed Sybil on the forehead. His warm lips were like heaven on her freezing skin.

"If I get sick, you're taking care of me," Tom said.

She stepped away and intertwined their fingers together, getting them both ready to run through the empty Dublin street.

"Of course I will love."


	5. Chapter 5

Alright my dearies! We're at the penultimate chapter! It's a bit short though.

I'd like to thank MH96, Corkrose, dustedoffanoldie, shana-rose, Syblime, and cassiemortmain for reviewing! Ya'll are lovely!

To the story!

o o o

"Happy birthday love."

Sybil got up from her chair at the kitchen table and walked over to Tom's side. He opened his arms and welcomed her in. She dropped a newspaper package in beside the empty plate. Sybil sat in his lap and snuggled into his chest. Curious, Tom picked up the parcel and inspected the outside, keeping an arm around his wife.

"What's this? I thought we agreed that you wouldn't get me anything for my birthday."

She nestled further into his chest and smiled, knowing he would love his gift.

"I know, but it's your first birthday with me. I wanted to give you something special. Go on. Open it," She murmured into the fabric of his collarbone.

Tom opened his gift. Whatever was inside tumbled quietly down onto the table. Sybil laughed as Tom picked it up, examining this very unexpected gift.

"A monkey wrapped in newspaper?"

Sybil laughed harder.

"Look at it!"

Tom looked down at Sybil's face to try and get some answers. She laughed harder at his confusion. Tom turned the stuffed toy over in his hand.

"The monkey?"

"Yes, but that's not the important part. Look! The newspaper!"

Tom picked up the crumpled piece of paper. It was a copy of his first publication in the Dublin Times. It wasn't a large article. Just a small opinion piece about the working conditions of the servants in big houses. He drew on his experiences from growing up watching his father as a coachman and his experiences as a chauffeur. It garnered interest and he was touted as one of the bright and up-and-coming journalists in Dublin. Why was his article more important than the monkey?

"It's my article."

Sybil finally looked up at Tom and laid her hands on his shoulders as he grasped her waist. She smiled at him, eyes crinkling around the edges, smile lines on her full cheeks. She stroked the base of his neck with the thumbs and looked straight into his eyes.

"During the war you told me you would protest and make the newspaper. I was so worried about you Tom. I thought you would leave, but you didn't. Instead, you stayed and waited. And look where you are now. You made the newspapers a different way, without conflict and danger. You are still making a difference, but you've changed your protest. My darling Tom, I can't tell you how proud you make me."

Tom was speechless. He stared at his smiling wife and couldn't help but laugh. It was crazy. He didn't think he could love her anymore than he did, but she proved that their love for each other was so much deeper. Tom wanted to laugh, cry, and kiss her all at the same time. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her lower back as she reached pulled him in to her arms, locking them in a tight embrace.

"I love it Sybil. Thank you."


End file.
